You have a Weakness, Felix
by KisaHeart22
Summary: The Lost Boys want to hear a bedtime story one evening and Peter decides to tell them the tale of how he and Felix first met. … Well, kinda. He stretches the truth just a bit but the boys don't need to know everything that happens between him and Felix! THAT can stay behind closed doors.


"Peter! Tell us the story about how you first started the Lost Boys!" a blonde haired male all of seventeen called out energetically as the group sat around the roaring campfire one evening.

It wasn't unusual for the boys to ask for a bedtime story but Peter had grown weary of telling that old one so often even though the others never seemed to tire of it.

"That again?" Peter asked with a sigh, an eyebrow raising with amusement as he leaned casually against a tree behind two boys seated on a log.

There was a chorus of excited agreements as Peter pushed himself off of the tree and stepped over the log. He plopped himself down right in-between the two boys who were also eagerly awaiting the story.

"Alright, alright," Peter relented with amusement, his hands on his knees. "If you all insist, I suppose I can tell that boring tale once again." He rolled his eyes in feigned annoyance as the boys whooped and cheered.

Peter grinned at the enthusiasm of the group when he suddenly caught a flash of blue on the other side of the fire. His eyes locked onto a pair of icy ones staring straight back at him, the tiny smirk barely visible on the dangerous cloaked face.

Peter held the gaze a moment longer than he should have but the boys didn't seem to notice. He quickly averted his eyes, licking his dry lips briefly. He could feel heat rising against his cheeks that definitely didn't come from the flames. He knew exactly what part of the story he wanted to tell.

He stretched his fingers out a bit on his knees while regaining his composure and then smiled again at the boys seated around him.

"Actually, I'm going to tell you boys a part of the story I've never told you before," Peter announced, smirking at the excited murmurs that swept through the campsite. "It all started shortly after my deal with Rumplestiltskin..."

-

Peter crunched through the fallen leaves of the Enchanted Forest, an angry snarl seared onto his face right next to a large cut that stretched across his cheek. That stupid Rumple. Peter's rough crash landing in the forest had been all because of that idiot not explaining how to fly properly.

He wiped the back of his hand over the cut on his cheek, surprised it was still bleeding so much. Shouldn't that thing have healed itself by now? Wasn't that another part of the whole immortality bit?

Peter spotted a patch of brown to his left which wouldn't have been unusual in the thick forest except the thing was fairly wide and geometric in form. He cut his eyes over to the foreign object, suddenly stopping, his brows knitting together in confusion.

The structure was that of a small, wooden house. Well, not really a house. It looked much more like a decrepit shack than anything with holes in the roof and the walls slightly askew. Very unfit to house any sort of civilized human life in Peter's opinion.

Peter didn't recall hearing of anyone living way out in the forest like this, although it probably wasn't completely unheard of. The house looked like it had been there for quite a while. There were some wooden buckets and tools lying outside of the building along with a small campfire whose coals were still smoldering a little. Peter knew somebody must have been there very recently.

He looked around the forest for a minute, not really sure if he should approach the structure or not. Not seeing any other signs of life, he figured it wouldn't hurt anything for him to at least get a closer look. His curiosity was insatiable after all.

He took cautious steps towards the structure at first, unsure if some crazed maniac would suddenly come bursting through the front door or not. Once he had gotten within ten feet of the house and still hadn't seen any signs of human commotion, he figured he was alone for now.

Peter noticed the wooden door hanging lopsided on its hinges, leaving a few inches of the inside visible. The boy stepped up to the crack and peered in, seeing a black, wood burning stove in the corner along with clothes and more tools scattered about the floor. Nothing particularly interesting except that the clothing looked like that of a young man's.

A sudden rustling of leaves behind Peter made him jump and whip around, his eyes wide with panic and his hand gripping the dagger at his side. He probed the landscape, not seeing any movement immediately until his gaze finally came to rest on a small sparrow digging through some leaves a few feet away from him.

Peter scowled, his eyes narrowing with annoyance at his jumpiness. "Stupid bird," he grumbled, relaxing a little as he looked back at the house.

There was a small, dirty window to the left of the front door. Peter knew he probably shouldn't continue snooping around the place but his curiosity easily got the better of him. He took a step closer to the window and placed his hands up to the glass, cupping them around his face so he could peer into the building more clearly.

There was a small, makeshift bed to the left of the window with a fur blanket thrown carelessly on top of it along with a dirty, white shirt. A wooden table was placed directly under the window with a lantern sitting on it. Then there was the stove in the far right corner along with an iron frying pan on top of that and a few other dishes scattered about. Peter didn't miss the spears resting against the wall right next to the front door either.

No, this definitely was NOT a place you would find civilized humans, Peter thought to himself with a wrinkle of his nose as he straightened back up. Although, whoever lived there clearly knew how to defend themselves. He already felt a bit of respect for whoever this strange creature was.

That was when Peter suddenly heard the distinct sound of leaves crunching under foot. He whipped around, his eyes scouring the landscape and his hand gripping the dagger once more. He caught a glimpse of a figure several yards away and quickly ducked behind a large spruce tree near the house. After a few moments, he leaned to the side a bit in order to see around the tree and felt his eyes suddenly widen as his breath caught in the back of his throat.

The figure had gotten close enough for Peter to see the details of the person. It was a young man, probably around Peter's age if not a bit older. He was clearly taller than Peter as well, his long, casual, strides showing that. His dark blonde hair was plastered to his head, some strands hanging about his cold, emotionless, blue eyes. He had two deep scars forming the shape of an x slicing across his face under his right eye. His jeans were dark and dripping with water as they clung to his slender legs. Water glinted off the male's muscular chest and slowly drizzled down his abs. He was carrying a spear over his shoulder with three good sized fish dangling from it. Peter noticed the way the young man's bicep twitched with the weight of the spear in his hand.

Of course, Peter didn't say this description to the Lost Boys seated around him. He gave a very vague mention of a young man coming up to the house but stated that he was, conveniently, too far away to make out the details of him.

Peter quickly turned back around, letting out a sharp breath he hadn't realized he was holding, and pressed his back against the tree for support. He could feel heat rising to his cheeks as the image burned itself into his brain. Peter swallowed and cautiously hedged another glance around the tree trunk.

The young man had already made it into the house and was shutting the door behind him. Peter slid out from behind the tree trunk and carefully snuck up to the window, squatting down below its edge and peeking over the rim to watch the boy... in case he was up to something suspicious. You should always keep your friends close and your enemies closer, Peter easily explained to the Lost Boys during this part.

The blonde male leaned the spear against the wall with the fish still on it and then began undoing his jeans. Peter's eyes widened and he quickly ducked his head below the edge of the window, feeling his cheeks burning. He needed to get out of there before he was caught, Peter realized. He had already stayed there far too long.

He slowly crept away from the window, still crouched, careful to avoid stepping on any particularly crunchy leaves. Peter would pause every so often, his eyes never straying from the crooked door, his hand staying locked on his dagger. The blonde never appeared though. Once Peter was far enough away from the house, he spun around and took off running into the forest thinking about how flying would've really come in handy right about then.

Peter suddenly gasped and stumbled to the ground when he felt a searing pain go through his leg. He collapsed onto his hands and knees, turning to see a dagger embedded two inches into the back of his leg. He looked up, his eyes narrowing viciously as the blonde male casually walked towards him. He was wearing a dry pair of jeans now but water was still dripping down his face and chest. His eyes were icy cold but there was almost a smirk tugging at his lips.

Peter snarled, rolling over onto his back, quickly unsheathing his own dagger, and throwing it with deadly speed and accuracy at the boy. The young man caught the knife only an inch away from his chest, twirling it around easily in his hand, his pace never faltering. Peter's eyes widened in shock, as he tried to register the other male's incredible speed. How could he possibly be so fast?

"Nice try," the blonde drawled in a thick southern accent, a bit impressed by the other boy's quick actions. "That would have killed anyone else."

Peter's breath had quickened as he glared up at the boy who had now stopped directly in front of him, the blonde's eyes were still emotionless as they stared down at him. Peter lurched forward in an attempt to get up but gasped again when pain wrenched through his body.

"Don't move," the boy commanded, squatting down and placing Peter's dagger in his back pocket. Despite the intense pain, Peter still managed to narrow his eyes in anger at the action, a snarl forming on his lips. That was HIS knife.

The blonde suddenly grabbed onto Peter's ankle and tugged him closer, smirking at the way Peter winced and clenched his jaw. Peter tried to keep his eyes narrowed as his gaze clashed with the other boy's intense stare. The blonde leaned forward until Peter could feel his warm breath against his lips. Peter felt his breath hitch at the electrified tension in the air and then he suddenly let out a sharp howl when the dagger was wrenched from his leg.

Peter was gasping from the pain, clawing his nails into the hard ground as blood began to flow freely from the wound. The blonde placed one arm around Peter's back, pulling him against his bare chest, while sliding the other arm under the injured boy's knees. He got to his feet easily, cradling Peter against him. Despite the pain, Peter could still feel his cheeks heating both with arousal and indignation.

"Put me down," Peter demanded, still somehow managing to make his voice sound threatening and venomous. He narrowed his eyes angrily at the young man's face.

"I don't think you're in any position to be giving me orders," the blonde responded casually, keeping his cold eyes planted forward. A tiny, amused smirk tugged at the edges of his lips again.

Peter desperately wanted to put up a fight but the pain searing through his leg was making him feel incredibly lightheaded. He turned his head to see the small, wooden shack coming into view before his vision suddenly went black.

The Lost Boys were staring at Peter with wide eyes, shocked their fearless and powerful ruler could ever be taken down by anyone. Peter looked up at the blue eyed figure across the campfire but the male's head was lowered. The Neverland ruler could still see the small smirk on his lips even through the shadows.

The next thing Peter remembered was suddenly being jarred awake by his dreams as he shot up in a foreign bed and darted his eyes around in a panic. He relaxed momentarily when he saw the blonde young man crouched over by the black stove, poking around at the flames with a stick. Then Peter immediately tensed again when he remembered why he was there in the first place. He placed his hand on his side, instinctively reaching for his dagger, but finding nothing. Even the scabbard he usually held the knife in had been removed.

Peter's eyebrows lowered in anger as he glared at the blonde's back, noting how he had put a white shirt on while Peter was unconscious. Peter glanced down at his leg briefly before suddenly piercing it with a horrified expression, his mouth dropping slightly. His boot had been removed and his pant leg sliced off at the knee. There were herbs pressed to his wound with a cloth bandage wrapped around his leg holding them in place.

"You couldn't have rolled my pant leg up?" Peter demanded indignantly, turning an enraged stare on the young man.

The blonde tossed the stick into the stove's fire before shutting the door and straightening up. "Would've took too long," he drawled, a hint of amusement coming through his voice.

"Too long?" Peter scoffed with visible anger. "It would've taken two extra seconds! Actually, it probably would have taken less time!"

The young man wasn't paying attention to Peter though as he was placing a sizzling fillet of fish onto a plate. It actually smelled pretty good to Peter but he turned his face away with a wrinkled nose when the young man brought it over to him.

"I don't eat fish," the boy lied easily, disgust filling his voice. He turned back towards the blonde, beginning to push himself up off the bed when he felt a hand on his shoulder forcing him back down. Peter was a little surprised by the older boy's strength.

The young man placed the plate in Peter's lap, ignoring his earlier words. Peter, in turn, ignored the plate and reached forward to untie the cloth around his leg. The blonde's hand came down heavily on his causing Peter to jerk his hands back at the touch, his face beginning to flush.

"It's healed," Peter snapped, not looking up at the other male.

"Just like the cut on your cheek?" The blonde asked, his blue orbs studying Peter's annoyed form.

Peter's brows knit together in confusion as he reached up and felt the slightly raised skin on his cheek. A scar? That cut shouldn't have left a scar.

Peter suddenly felt a warm thumb lightly graze across the mark. His head shot up to lock eyes with the blonde. He glanced at the large cross on the other boy's cheek, feeling his own face flushing again as he quickly averted his gaze and batted the young man's hand away from him.

"Did that hurt?" The older boy asked, a tinge of concern seeping into his otherwise emotionless voice.

Peter shook his head, scrunching his eyebrows in annoyance. He wasn't used to being around someone, so all of this contact was unnerving to him. All of his time had been spent alone on Neverland. The only reason he had ventured into the Enchanted Forest was to find Rumplestiltskin. That was several weeks ago though and Peter was actually eager to get back home. Being under the queen's watchful eye irritated him.

"Where's my dagger?" Peter finally demanded after his cheeks had stopped burning, turning a vicious glare on the other male.

Peter noticed the blonde's lips form into a tiny, amused smirk as he straightened up again. "Now, if I told you that, wouldn't that put me at a disadvantage?" He asked casually, walking back over to the stove and placing another fillet into the frying pan.

Peter just watched the older boy for a moment but then suddenly sneered to himself. So, the young man thinks he's smart, Peter thought with a snicker.

"So, what's your name?" Peter asked casually, his eyebrows rising with innocent curiosity.

"Felix," the blonde responded simply, keeping his back to the other male.

Felix? The name didn't ring any bells. Surely this wasn't just some kid playing house out here in the forest.

"The name's Peter. Peter Pan," Peter offered with a smirk, picking the plate up off his lap and setting it down onto the table beside the bed. "And, if you'll excuse me, I'm afraid I must be going."

Peter threw his legs over the edge of the bed and pushed himself up onto his feet only to have his injured leg give out on him. He collapsed onto his hands and knees with a surprised noise. He wasn't used to being in a weakened state. Felix was immediately at his side, helping him to his feet and then gently easing him back down onto the bed.

"You need to rest here for tonight," Felix murmured to him, picking up Peter's legs and swinging them back onto the bed.

Peter clenched his jaw. Unlike most people, he didn't appreciate being taken care of. It felt like he was having to obey someone else's rules and he had never liked rules very much, save for his own.

Felix picked up the plate with the still untouched fish on it and placed it back in Peter's lap. Peter almost snarled. Couldn't the boy see he didn't want the damn fish?!

The blonde turned back around, making his way over to the stove when the sound of a plate shattering against the wall stopped him. He turned to see Peter glaring at him defiantly, the plate and fillet now in pieces on the floor directly beside Felix.

"I don't want the stupid fish," Peter growled venomously. "And I'm not staying here tonight. You're going to help me get down to the beach. It's not very far from here, as I'm sure you know. There should be a boat down there. I'm going back to Neverland tonight. I refuse to stay in this forsaken forest for another minute. Now, help me up." Peter held a hand out expectantly.

Felix regarded the boy cooly for a moment, an eyebrow cocked a bit disbelieving at how Peter was reacting to his acts of kindness. He looked back down at the shattered plate, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips once more.

"I'm afraid I won't be helping you go anywhere tonight," he drawled easily.

Peter's hand lowered along with his eyebrows as he stared at the boy.

"Alright," he stated with mock pleasantry, a smirk forming on his lips. "Then I'll go myself."

Peter swung his legs over the side of the bed again, attempting to stand once more. When his leg gave out on him and he collapsed onto his hands and knees this time, he simply crawled towards the door, his expression defiant. Peter didn't care how ridiculous he looked, he refused to play subordinate to a boy his age.

Peter had made his way over to the far wall, carefully avoiding the broken pieces of plate, and was just about to push the door open when a sudden flash and breath of wind right beside his face stopped him. He instinctively ducked away from the object almost colliding with the back of his head and turned to look upwards into the blonde's cold, blue stare. He was leaning casually on the spear he had just driven into the floor directly beside Peter's head, a sly smile forming on his features.

"Perhaps I didn't make myself clear," he began smoothly, a threatening tone seeping into his voice. "You're not going anywhere tonight."

Peter met the boy's stare head on, neither one of their deadly gazes wavering. Peter knew he should be fearing for his life right then but the blonde's words did nothing but stir up a hungry desire in him.

"And perhaps I didn't make myself clear," Peter countered in a low voice, enunciating each word carefully. "I don't take orders from anyone."

Peter gripped onto the wooden shaft, yanking it out of the floor and away from the other boy. Felix had been anticipating the move and easily pushed himself off of the spear, immediately crouching down and pulling Peter's other arm around his back in a tight hold.

Peter adjusted his grip on the spear, jabbing the butt of it behind him, aiming for the blonde's head but Felix ducked easily out of the way, grabbing the weapon as he did so and yanking it backwards abruptly. Peter was a bit surprised when he was pulled back hard against the other male's chest. Felix adjusted his sitting position, placing his knees on either side of Peter's injured leg, carefully shielding the wound.

Peter's eyes narrowed at the thought of the boy going easy on him and pulled the spear down hard on his shoulder, successfully snapping it in two. He felt Felix's grip loosen for just a split second and Peter seized the opportunity to turn himself around, twisting his wrist in Felix's hand, and then aiming the spear directly for the blonde's side. Felix saw the move though and quickly released his hold on the boy's wrist, seizing the spear just inches from his side and then pulling it behind his back which, in turn, pulled Peter close to him again. Peter's eyes widened a bit in surprise when Felix balanced back on his toes and then rocked his knee forward into Peter's stomach. The hand holding the butt of the spear quickly came around Peter's back, easing the boy down onto the floor to keep him from being injured by the broken pieces of plate.

Felix whipped his hand back around to hold the wooden shaft tightly against Peter's throat. Felix leaned his body forward so that he was almost on Peter, not even trying to hide the smirk on the blonde's lips. Peter's other hand quickly came around to grip onto the stick pushed against his throat, attempting to keep it from pressing down on him even more. His other hand was still attached to the spear tip behind Felix's back.

Peter knew he was breathing harder than he should have been. He could tell from the quick, warm, puffs against his face that Felix was also breathing heavier than need be. Peter licked his lips, noting the way Felix's eyes flickered to them for the briefest of moments before locking gazes with Peter once more. That was when an idea suddenly occurred to Peter. If he couldn't beat the blonde in a game of mere brute strength, he would have to use a different tactic. He would have to use the older male's weakness and he had a hunch exactly what that would be.

Peter's lips slid into a devilish smirk as he released his hold on the wooden shaft at his throat, reached up to twist his fingers into Felix's hair, and then yanked him down so that their lips were almost touching. Felix's body tensed, a growl emitting from his throat and his breathing coming out even harder. His body had become completely focused on the younger male's below him.

Peter's lips parted slightly, just begging the other boy to take them. Felix leaned in ever so slightly, his lips barely grazing Peter's when a knee suddenly came up and jabbed him in the stomach. Peter yanked the spear tip towards him from around Felix's back and successfully flipped the older male over. Felix landed hard on his back, bits of broken plate cutting into his flesh but he barely even noticed. His eyes widened only briefly in surprise as Peter jumped him, straddling his hips and grinning victoriously.

"You have a weakness, Felix," the boy teased, happiness lighting his features at the easy win. Felix knew he should have been upset at allowing the brunette to distract him so easily but he couldn't bring himself to do anything but smile softly in amusement.

Peter was a little surprised by the gentle expression on the blonde's face. He remembered how deadly the male had seemed out in the forest earlier that day. Felix was strong, quick and had wicked aim. He seemed to be in complete control of everything. If his affections were for Peter solely, he could prove incredibly useful in fights. Peter reasoned with himself. Besides, it would be a waste to have such a perfect body wither away with age. Peter could feel his cheeks tinge pink as his eyes darted over Felix's lean body underneath him but he quickly shook his head ever so slightly and smirked down at the boy again.

"I'll make you a deal," Peter suddenly stated with a confident tilt of his head, as if doing the male a favor. "You come with me to Neverland and be my personal playmate and I'll..." Peter scrunched his eyebrows together as if thinking hard about what he could give in turn. "... I'll let you kiss me just this once." He grinned down at the other boy.

Felix's mind locked on the casual way Peter said "personal playmate" but he raised an eyebrow slightly at the trade-off. "Just a kiss?" He asked, amusement in his voice.

"Don't be lewd," Peter scolded lightly, his eyebrows knitting together with mock disgust. "We only just met today. Now, what do you say? Do we have a deal?"

Felix appraised the boy's outstretched hand and haughty gaze, as if Peter already knew Felix wouldn't refuse. The blonde just smirked as he reached up suddenly, ignoring the hand, and gripped onto Peter's shirt. He pulled him down hard so that their lips crashed together, Peter immediately grinning into the kiss. He had only come into the Enchanted Forest to get immortality from Rumple for both him and the island. Now, he had a willing player to his games as well. For once everything had turned out better than he had anticipated.

But, of course, Peter couldn't describe any of this to the other Lost Boys. Instead, he spun them a gallant tale of a few battles with this blonde foe, only slightly surprised by how easily the other boy could almost match his skills. One way or another, Peter always got the upper hand though. Nobody could beat the Lost Boys' fearless leader in anything.

The Lost Boys were on the edge of their seats throughout the dramatic tale, Peter jumping to his feet a few times to act out some of the knife fight scenes. He even threw a blood thirsty ogre into the stories just to make things interesting. Eventually, Peter told them how he realized what an asset Felix would be to the island and offered him a pass to Neverland which the blonde accepted very eagerly, of course.

Felix had been silent throughout the story, finding Peter's easy lies amusing. They both knew the truth and that was all that mattered. After all, the Lost Boys didn't need to know everything that went on between them.

"So, what happened after you guys came to Neverland?" A brunette fifteen year-old asked curiously.

Everyone knew Felix and Peter had been on the island alone for many years before any of the other Lost Boys had shown up. A few of the braver souls had asked Peter about those years but he would always simply glance over at Felix and then laugh, stating that they were very dull days. None of the boys believed him though. A couple of them even tried asking Felix about it but, when their questions kept getting met with silence and smirks, they stopped.

This time wasn't much different either.

Peter shook his head and scoffed in amusement. "I've told you boys before that there's nothing to tell. You all know Felix. How much fun could one possibly have alone with him?" Peter grinned, motioning at the shrouded figure across the campfire.

The Lost Boys chuckled a little, looking over at the blonde in question. Felix almost laughed right along with them because, as "dull" as the older boy was, Peter always seemed to have the most fun when they were alone. Felix remained silent though and simply looked out across the fire to where Peter sat. Peter was smirking at him but his eyes were intense, filled with desire.

Those years on Neverland when it was just the two of them had been wild and uncontrollable, to say the least. Anything but dull. They did absolutely anything and everything they could think of. One minute they would be wrastling about with sharpened daggers, drawing blood, and, the very next, be kissing those same wounds well. The cuts always healed quicker that way. They would go up to the highest point of Neverland overlooking the vast sea and then throw themselves from the edge just to know what it would feel like to kiss in mid free fall. Flying was fun but there was just something about falling that made their hearts skip a beat. When they finally swam back to the shore, they would just lie there on the beach with Peter curled up into Felix's side as they simply lay together under the stars.

Peter was never really sure how many years it was before other Lost Boys showed up on the island. Neither he nor Felix had been counting the days. In Peter's opinion, it hadn't been nearly long enough though. The first few Lost Boys were mostly in the way those few months after their arrival. They were like children suddenly dropped onto a newly wed couple and Peter greatly feared contentment above all else. He thought it was the excitement of the unknown that made his pulse quicken and his breath rush. He feared that if things stopped being exciting, if things became mundane, either he or Felix would lose interest in whatever it was they had developed. And Peter needed to feel that need from the other boy.

As time progressed and more Lost Boys began showing up, the wild, uncontrollable urge for adventure began to fade but the feelings remained unchanged. Felix still needed Peter like air and Peter thrived off of it. Patience and jealousy became new parts of their game. Peter loved how Felix would sit so silently whenever the Neverland ruler would pay a little too much attention to one of the other boys. Then, as soon as he and Peter were alone, Felix would push him against a tree, crushing their lips and bodies together possessively because nobody could make Peter feel that way except him.

Felix knew as soon as he saw Peter watching him from behind the tree that first day that he would be Felix's everything. When his eyes had locked with the other boy's wide orbs, he felt something click inside of him. He didn't know what the sudden feeling was, nor did he pay much attention to it until he had gotten into the house and pulled on a fresh pair of jeans. That was when his eyes had glanced over to the window and caught sight of Peter slowly backing away from the house. When the brunette suddenly turned and ran, Felix felt that hunter instinct shoot through him and took off after him. How rude it was for that person to enter his life and then not even bother saying hello.

Felix could have easily killed the boy with a quick throw of the dagger to the back of his neck but his intentions were never to kill. He merely wanted to slow Peter down so he could speak with him properly. Given the way he had run off, Felix expected the smaller male to be timid and scared, willing to do absolutely anything Felix wanted. When Peter immediately turned on him with a snarl though, throwing his own dagger with deadly speed and accuracy at Felix's chest, he knew instantly what that click inside of him had been. Peter was better than he could have ever imagined.

Since Felix didn't have any living relatives, the decision to go to Neverland with Peter was an incredibly easy one. Felix knew already he wouldn't be able to let Peter go. Not after their scuffle with that spear. Peter was smart and quick-witted, deadly with or without a weapon, painfully cute in his childish demeanor, and his insatiable need for excitement was contagious. Felix knew instantly that Peter belonged to him.

Peter knew a few years after the final Lost Boy arrived how much Felix meant to him. He had actually realized his feelings years prior but it took him a long time before he could fully accept the idea of caring for someone so intensely. Even someone as perfect as Felix. Felix was everything Peter could have ever hoped for in a potential mate. He was deadly and merciless, obedient without question, patient, thorough, even-tempered, and, most importantly, silent. A person as chatty as Peter couldn't possibly be with someone that talked incessantly. No, Felix really was perfect and the Neverland ruler quickly became possessive of the older boy. Not that Felix seemed to mind. Felix belonged to Peter, after all.

The Lost Boys just watched the two stare at each other for a few moments, wondering what exactly was passing between them, when Peter suddenly became aware of their eyes on them. He suddenly stood, yawning and stretching before smiling innocently at the boys.

"Well, I suppose that's enough story telling for one night," he announced.

The boys groaned disagreeably but slowly began to disperse to their hammocks and bedrolls. They still wanted to know what had happened during those years on Neverland when it was just their two leaders but the boys knew they would probably never get an answer.

Peter looked back over at Felix briefly before smirking and raising his eyebrows. He casually sauntered around the campfire, passing by right in front of the blonde without even a glance towards him. Peter made his way over to his large, tree-stump lodge and pushed open the door, stepping inside and then purposely leaving it wide open.

Felix had watched the boy the entire time and smirked at the signal. He got to his feet slowly, making his way over to the home and then ducking inside, shutting the door soundly behind him.

A few of the Lost Boy watched the scene before shooting each other knowing smirks and shaking their heads.

As soon as Felix had stepped through the doorway, Peter was immediately in front of him leaning his body into his and wrapping his arms around the taller boy's neck. There was a slightly annoyed expression on Peter's face as Felix wrapped his arms around the smaller boy's petite waist.

"You're too slow," Peter complained with a frown. "You should have been in here one minute ago."

Felix smirked with amusement as he gazed down into the other boy's eyes. "Dull and slow, huh? That's no way to get someone to sleep with you," he drawled, tightening his grip around Peter's waist and pulling him harder against his body.

Peter grinned devilishly, raising an eyebrow. "I was merely pointing out your weaknesses. It worked so beautifully that first night." He suddenly pushed away from Felix, turning around to cross his arms over his chest.

"Which reminds me, you never did give me my dagger back," he stated with a pout, casting a frown over his shoulder at the blonde.

Felix smirked again. "If you want it, I still have it right-"

"No, no, no," Peter quickly cut in, waving his hand about in the air and then sighing heavily in feigned exasperation. "I suppose since you've held onto it all this time you can just keep it. If you must."

Peter turned back around with his arms still crossed but a thoughtful smile on his lips that hadn't yet turned sly. It made Peter incredibly happy how much Felix had treasured that scrap of sharpened metal over the years. He always kept it at his side, carefully shielded under his cloak and right next to the dagger he actually used in battles. Peter could sometimes feel it whenever he would lean against Felix's side casually or when he would curl up against him to sleep at night. It seemed symbolic in a way. Peter had always held onto that dagger out of paranoia and fear but, with Felix around, he somehow didn't feel the need to be quite so anxious.

Peter smirked up at the boy again before stepping back over to him and rising up on his toes. Felix's lips immediately caught his in a heated kiss as his arms came around Peter's waist again to pull him against his body. Peter grinned into the kiss, gripping onto Felix's shirt and tugging him closer to him despite the lack of distance already.

When the two finally broke apart, they stayed pressed together, their lips still grazing each others' as they caught their breathes.

"You still have a weakness, Felix," Peter purred, grinning again with delight.

Felix smiled back and murmured against Peter's lips, "I always will."


End file.
